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Writer's pictureLockjaw

Putin: "missing you already"

Xi may be the face I can't forget A trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or The price I have to pay Xi may be the song that summer sings May be the chill that autumn brings May be a hundred different things Within the measure of a day Xi may be the beauty or the beast May be the famine or the feast May turn each day into a heaven Or a hell Xi may be the mirror of my dream A smile reflected in a stream Xi may not be what he may seem Inside his shell Xi who always seems so happy in a crowd Whose eyes can be so private and so proud No-one’s allowed to see them When they cry Xi may be the love that cannot hope to last May come to me from shadows of the past That I remember 'Till the day I die Xi may be the reason I survive The why and wherefore I’m alive The one I’ll care for Through the rough and rainy years Me, I’ll take his laughter and his tears And make them all my souvenirs For where she goes I’ve got to be The saviour of my life is Xi Xi, Xi (with apologies to the Estates of Herbert Kretzmer & Charles Aznavour)




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